I don't own Hetalia, because Hidekaz Himaruya does! Lucky bard...

Alfred blinked awake, the room blurry. He rubbed his eyes, trying to remember where he was. He looked around the room, and it all came back to him once his eyes fell on a bundle of blankets on the bed across from him.

Britain was asleep, curled up like a small child, his Union Jack comforter only covering his upper torso. His bed was a mess, leading Alfred to the inference that he had rolled a lot during the night, and he had thrown his pillow completely off the bed. Messy blond hair, golden in the sunlight streaming down from the curtain-less window, covered his left eye, his right shut peacefully; his mouth was partially open, announcing softly that he was breathing lightly and regularly. America grinned- Arthur probably wouldn't wake up for a while.

He stood up, in only his boxers, and walked over to his ally. He brushed the hair out of Britain's face, touseling said hair affectionately. Arthur smiled in his sleep, body curling around itself even more. America blushed lightly, also smiling; he had almost forgotten what England's sincere smile looked like- he hadn't seen one in a long time... His heart couldn't stop pounding, beating so loud that Alfred was afraid it would wake Arthur.

He pulled his hand back quickly, dropping the hair he had been messing with, trying to ignore how Arthur frowned when he did so. "M'erica..." he murmered in his sleep, still frowning.

U.S.A.'s heart stopped. He wasn't suppossed to know about countries being humans! Had his subconsious called out to him? 'No,' he told himself sternly, 'He's probably just talking about the actual place, not me...'

England shifted sharply, his Union Jack sheets falling off him. He was still frowning, but now it seemed more... Alfred couldn't quite remember what the word was. But he didn't like it. England twisted again, his legs uncurling themselves. 'Is Iggy having a nightmare?' America wondered. 'Should I wake him up?'

England twisted again, breathing becoming ragged; America decided to wake him. He grabbed Arthur's shoulders and shook them so hard that his head was rolling back and forth. Couldn't control his super-hero strength, I guess...

Britain's eyes snapped open, looking frantically around. The green orbs lingered on America for a moment, as if confused as to who he was, then narrowed when he finally did recognize him. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked venomously.

"You kept twising in your sleep! I figured that I should wake you because the hero I am doesn't let people have nightmares when he's around! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" America replied brightly.

"Well don't! It's none of your bloody buisness how I'm sleeping! And you're not my hero!" he hissed.

"Of course I'm your hero, dude! Who'll protect you when you don't have your gun and bad guys are closing in? Who'll sweep down and save you, just when you think that all hope is lost? Me!"

"Not even in your dreams, tosser!"

America placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "I'm hurt, dude." He broke out snickering. "But seriously, why were you holding a gun yesterday?"

"It's none of your concern!"

"Yeah it is- I'm your hero!"

"You're not my hero!"

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not!"

"Yeah, I am."

"No, you're not!"

"Yup."

"No!"

"Dude, why are you so against me being your hero?"

"Because I don't bloody need one, you arrogant wanker!"

"Geez... Regardless, I'm here to protect you, even if you don't want me to." Alfred gave a cocky grin. Arthur fumed.

Arthur got out of bed, shoving rudely past Alfred; he grabbed a pair of random clothes and stormed into the bathroom, ignoring the pair of eyes locked on him the entire time. Once the door was slammed shut, he realized that he forgot his shower stuff at Oliver's house. "Bloody Hell!" he shouted.

America was there in an instant, throwing open the door with a confident air around him. "What's wrong- the hero is here to save you!"

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?!" he screeched, embarressed despite him being fully clothed. Alfred looked around, confused.

"Where's the danger?"

"There is none! Get out!"

"Then why were you screaming?"

"I wasn't screaming. Now get out or I'm asking for a room change!"

"Okay, okay..." he left, shutting the door behind him doubtfully. Arthur released the breath he had been holding.

"Great, just great..." he muttered, gathering his stuff. He walked out of the bathroom and threw his stuff on his bed, then turned to Alfred, teeth clenched. "Alfred?"

"Yeah?" he drawled out.

"Could I... Borrow your car to go to the store?"

"Why do you need to go to the store?" 'Nosy bastard...'

"I forgot something that I need."

"What'd you forget? I might have an extra."

Arthur scowled. It wasn't his buisness! But he needed to get his stuff... "... My shower stuff."

"Dude, I have some you can use! One sec, lemme get it." Alfred jumped up, running to his dresser and pulling out a towel. He handed it to a dumb-founded England. He wanted his stuff! Not his annoying roommate's! "The soap 'n stuff's already in there."

"..."

"Something wrong?" Alfred asked, oblivious.

"Actually-"

A knock at the door cut Arthur off. "Who's it?" Alfred called.

"It is Ivan."

"What do you want, commie?!" Alfred shouted angrily. Britain stared, stunned; who could cause his overly-obnoxious-roommate-who-knew-nothing-of-personal-boundries to change so quickly?

"I have a welcome gift for Arthur, da?" an accented voice replied.

"Well too ba- what are you doing?" Arthur was opening the door, having already set Alfred's towel down.

"Please, come in." he invited a tall Russian man standing at their doorway. He noticed three smaller men behind him, quivering.

"Much appreciated, comrade." he smiled creepily as he stepped inside, the three boys also coming in.

"Yes, thank you." the three called in unison. Why were they crying?

"Urm... Are you okay?" Arthur asked, trying to ignore Alfred's glare at Ivan.

"Pay no attention to them." Ivan grinned. "I brought you something~"

Arthur turned, only to jump back when he saw the scene before him: Alfred was snarling and holding a gun to Ivan's head, the Russian also holding a gun to Alfred's- but Ivan was still smiling. "What the- Alfred! What are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning out the commie scum! Why'd you let him in?" he cried.

"Because he is not a rude glutton like you." Ivan replied.

"Both of you, put the guns away!" Arthur called, tone serious.

Ivan hesitated, then lowered his weapon, putting it back in his coat. Alfred seemed like he was debating whether to do it also when Englad growled, "Put it away, or I'll personally send you to the hospital." Alfred obliged, warily looking at Ivan to see if he was going to attack him now that he was weapon-less. Ivan stayed where he was.

Before Arthur could say anything else, Ivan said, "Well, as much as I wish I could stay, I have a schedule to keep." he handed Arthur a bottle of Vodka and left, the three boys following him. England stared at the shut door for a moment, then set the bottle down and grabbed the towel Alfred lent him; he walked to the bathroom and shut the door, making sure to lock it.

'The people here are insane!'Arthur thought as he turned the water on.